


Hello, Doctor (The My Old Friend Remix)

by hhertzof



Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: Community: remixredux08, F/M, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-15
Updated: 2010-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hhertzof/pseuds/hhertzof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor's view of the prank calls. Remixed from <i>Hello, Doctor</i> by shaggydogstail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello, Doctor (The My Old Friend Remix)

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: paranoidangel, hilandmum

The Doctor was under the console fixing something, when the mobile that Martha had given him rang. He didn't notice it at first because he was singing rather loudly. The nice part about having the TARDIS to himself was that he could sing whatever he wanted, without any strange looks from his companions. He'd never forgotten the look Ace gave him when she'd caught him singing 'I Feel Pretty'. There were some things that even he understood were beyond the pale.

So he was lying on his back, happily working on the TARDIS and singing the soundtrack from _Enchanted_ and he'd just got to 'That's How You Know', when the mobile rang. It took him a moment to realise that 'Doctor Wu' was now playing in counterpoint to his singing, at which time he put down his tools and sat up, being careful not to bang his head on the console. Tracking down the sound to his jacket, he withdrew the mobile and answered it.

'Oh, hello is that the Doctor? Hello, yes, I'd like to make an appointment. It's my lumbago, it's giving me gyp. Had me up half the night, Doctor. Drives my Frank half to distraction, you know. The poor man's exhausted.'

'I'm sorry, you must have the wrong number. I'm not that sort of doctor.' Despite that, the Doctor didn't hang up immediately. He'd had some of his best conversations with total strangers.

'No? What do you mean, 'not that sort of doctor'? How many sorts are there?'The voice was rather demanding.

Finally she quieted down. 'Oh, pardon me, love, is that the proctologist? Frank could do with a repeat prescription. For his piles, see.'

At that point, he just hung up. He wasn't particularly in the mood to be yelled at. He found himself idly studying the mobile, thinking that he'd never pictured Martha as a Steely Dan fan.

The mobile rang again. _Are you really Doctor Wu or are you just a shadow of the man that I once knew? Are you crazy? Are you high? Or just an ordinary guy?_ He answered it, absently.

'Hello, is that the Doctor?' This voice was clipped and professional.

'Yes, this is the Doctor.' This was very strange. If the number was in the directory, wouldn't it be under Martha Jones?

'This is Hub Books,' she continued. 'The volume you ordered has come into stock but we don't seem to have the full address for delivery. The order note says it's the TARDIS - is that the house name or the street?'

'I haven't ordered any books. You must have confused me with another of your patrons.' He preferred the advantages of browsing. You stumbled on such interesting things that way. Like that book of Caveanseteda poetry. Where had he left that? He'd meant to finish that, but time slipped away. He couldn't even remember which incarnation he'd mislaid it in. Ah well, this was certainly a mistake. Although the mention of the TARDIS was worrying. One of his enemies perhaps.

'Are you sure? We've had the order for some time and it's definitely got your name and number on. Do you want me to check the title for you?'

'Not particularly, considering I never ordered it.' Although one of his future incarnations might have. Living nonlinearly, it was difficult to tell sometimes.

'Ah, yes, here it is. It's called The Loneliest Road: 12 Steps To Get Over Your Evil Ex-Boyfriend. Sound familiar?'

'You have got to be kidding me.' He slammed the mobile shut. Clearly a prank. The question was who. Whomever it was had been clever enough to disguise their number.

He punched in a number.

'Sarah Jane Smith,' was the crisp answer.

'Sarah, it's the Doctor. You haven't been playing a joke with that supercomputer of yours, have you?' He'd meant to go round and check up on her after she disappeared from time, but he hadn't found the time yet.

'Since when do you have a mobile, Doctor? No, I haven't, but you don't mind if I hold on to this number for future use. Alien invasions, UNIT reunions, that sort of thing.' She sounded delighted to have a way to contact him.

He had sudden misgivings, made worse when he heard her say. 'Turlough, it's the Doctor. Do you want to say hi?' and he heard the rustle of sheets in the background. He'd heard about that relationship but he didn't really want to know the details. Though it was better than having her involved with Jack, he supposed.

After a few minutes small talk, he was finally able to convince them he had to hang up. Just as well. He wasn't sure how many times he could listen to 'Turlough, don't,' and barely concealed moans. They clearly had other things on their minds.

The mobile rang again. The Doctor sighed and answered it.

'Doctor? This is Detective Inspector Greenford of New Scotland Yard. I'd like to 'ave a word with you about some very serious allegations about your posing as a member of the medical profession in order to lure young girls into your... Yeah, that's it, TARDIS. Never heard it called that before.

'It's not like that. More like a gap year abroad.' The Doctor had always considered it an educational opportunity. Didn't he show them wonders?

'I'm sure it's not. Look, mate, I know how it is, but I can't just let a matter like this slide. Don't look good. I'll let you off with a warning this time, but next time you fancy telling some innocent girl how you're gonna take her to the stars and back, try not to break any laws by posing as a physician, yeah?'

The DI was rather patronising and it was only with firm restraint that the Doctor informed him that he had never claimed to be a physician. Meanwhile his mind was racing as he considered other options. There was Martha of course, but he didn't have a current number and she'd always seemed a little too serious for such pranks. None of the voices had sounded like her and he didn't think she had the tech to fake it. For the moment, he'd give her the benefit of the doubt.

'Glad to hear it, guv. Watch you do mind yourself, or I'll not be so easy on you next time. And stay away from my daughter.'

The DI hung up and the Doctor resisted rolling his eyes. Whoever was responsible was being rather silly about it.

He tried the Brigadier, and only barely escaped from a discussion of gardening before the mobile rang again.

'Hello, Doctor? This is Ex-patriot Garages of Gallifrey here. We've got your TARDIS booked in for a service.'

Hanging up in disgust at the poor taste of invoking the name of his dead homeworld, he tried Jo. Who wanted to talk about her grandchildren. In excruciating detail. He gave the excuse that he had another call, which he did.

'Hello, Doctor, this is Cardiff Infirmary on the line. We've just admitted a Captain Jack Harkness and he lists you as next of kin... Yes, I quite understand. It's just that he needs a heart transplant, and he told us you had a spare you might be willing to donate, since you broke his in the first place.'

What was it about human hearts? They couldn't possibly break so easily.

Meanwhile the calls kept coming and in between them he tried all of the former companions he could think of, most of whom wanted to talk about their wonderful normal lives and weren't likely to have access to this number.

'Hi, Doctor, I'm evil. Fancy a shag?'

'Tegan? How's the air hostessing business? You've made it into middle management. How thrilling. I'm certain you're very busy at the moment, so I'll just hang up.'

'What about blonde and evil?'

Now, that was just mean. He sighed as he hung up again and dialed another number.

'Barbara, it's good to talk to you again. How's Ian? No, I can't possibly come to your school fête. Very sorry about that. Very busy. Saving the world and all that.'

'Yes, is that doctor... what is your last name? Oh, so it's Mr Doctor? Or should that be Dr Doctor? No, hang on, I think that's a song lyric...' The voice sang a few bars, badly, and the Doctor hung up in self defense.

'Harry, old chum. What have you been up to? Practice in the country. Wife and four kids. Bed and breakfast. No, I doubt I'll be in the area any time soon.'

'You order a pizza?'

'Ben. How's the Navy treating you? Oh, you're a MP now. Conservative party. Very serious business, government. Perhaps a drink. Not in the near future. Busy, busy, busy, that's me.'

The mobile rang again, but with a different ring - this time 'Doctor, my Eyes'. When he looked at the screen, he saw that he had a text message waiting for him.

The first few pictures were harmless, and he quickly recognised the Torchwood Hub in the background, though the culprits stayed out of sight. Martha had to be involved. Possibly Jack too...it was the sort of thing he would do.

Then they started sending him pictures of their breasts and other areas of their bodies at which point, he gave up and turned off photo messaging and shutdown the mobile. Humans of either sex didn't do much for him, and he suspected Martha at least would appreciate it if he didn't look. This was the sort of thing humans only did when they had consumed huge amounts of alcohol.

As he was about to replace the mobile in his jacket pocket he had a thought. Turning it back on, he recorded a message.

'This is the Doctor. If you are Martha Jones, please send a text. If you are anyone else, shove off and leave me alone. Oh, and I've turned off photo messaging, you sick, sick individuals.'

He went back to his repairs. He didn't doubt that Martha would call tomorrow with an embarrassed apology, after which he would change his number. Meanwhile, there was work to be done, and Disney lyrics to be sung.

_Come my little friends. As we all sing a happy little working song..._


End file.
